Lincolnton, NC Jun 17 '01 (Updated Sep 22 '03)    Write an essay on this topic. Tweet The Bottom Line Just be sure to read my last paragraph! My hometown is Lincolnton, North Carolina. It’s not where I was born, it’s not where I grew up, it’s not where I went to school, but it’s home. In my relatively young life, I’ve lived in quite a few states: born in Alabama, moved to California as a toddler as an Air Force Brat, then on to Florida where I was raised. For college I returned to Alabama, upon graduation left for Atlanta, Georgia, married (in Alabama) and promptly moved to Arkansas for the new hubby’s job. All of that moving made me restless and hungry for a place to call my own. After I gave birth to my son, I was desperate to put down some roots. The first place I’ve felt a sense of belonging since leaving my childhood home was Lincolnton, North Carolina. Lincolnton is certainly no vacation spot. It is, however, convenient to many lovely destinations. From here you are just an hour from the Blue Ridge Mountains in the west and only 3 hours to the beaches in the East. Lincolnton is also the perfect size, not big enough to worry about rush hour traffic, but not small enough to have to drive somewhere else to pick up a pair of shoes or a gallon of milk. Our weather is very temperate. In the winter we have just enough snow for enjoying a snow cream but usually not enough to prevent us from going anywhere we need to go. In the summer you can still breathe, but it’s warm enough by late May to take a dip in the pool. I can see the mountains from my front yard and Charlotte from certain places in the city. Lincolnton is large enough to have plenty of jobs for its residents and just small enough to have an Apple Festival that the whole town shows up for each year. Lincolnton is just big enough that not everybody knows you (or your business) but small enough that you can safely leave your door unlocked sometimes without worrying. I let my son play in the backyard by himself. We have our share of criminals; our bank was robbed not long ago. However, today the teens of First Baptist church came in to our bank bringing us sweet tea and homemade cookies, thanking us for our service in the community. Small town values in the suburbs! I have friends who live in or near Charlotte who can’t imagine living where I do. They need action and the love the skyscrapers of downtown. I enjoy the city, too, but only for a visit. There are no skyscrapers in Lincolnton’s downtown, but the entire street is lined with American Flags to celebrate Memorial Day. There is a sense of community here that you don’t find in a big city. We all take pride in our yards and help out our neighbors when we can. During my first years of marriage, I experienced a great deal of unease at where we lived. We were in what locals called the “armpit” of Arkansas and while I was there all I saw was the poorness of the area, the constant threat of flood from the Mississippi River, and the flat plains with no trees as far as the eye could see so as not to obstruct your view of the tornadoes that came through with relative regularity. I was so unhappy there that I never saw the beauty of that small town. Yes, it was flat, but that made for a beautiful sunset every night that seemed to be sucked into the very earth that bore it. The Mississippi did flood occasionally, but it is a life-giving body of water that is the most impressive and powerful river I’ve seen in my lifetime. I even find myself wistful for the storms (not the tornadoes!) that gave us spectacular light shows nearly every night during the summer. So, though this review is a tribute to my new hometown, it can also serve as an apology to my old one. I never knew how beautiful you were until I left you. I guess the lesson here would be to bloom where you are planted. Here’s another story I’ll leave with you. I read it in a magazine a long time ago, and I’m sorry I can’t give it credit, because it is a few short lines that changed my life. Two travelers, a man and his wife, were at a diner when another patron overheard them talking about home. When he asked the husband where home was, the husband simply gestured to his wife and said “Wherever she is.” Simple and corny, but it took me nearly five years of marriage to figure that out.

Read all comments (3)|Write your own comment

Write an essay on this topic.